


Tranquility

by StarlordShepard



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Mages and Templars, Nightmare, Rite of Tranquility, Self serving trash, Templars (Dragon Age), Tranquil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5869225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlordShepard/pseuds/StarlordShepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has a nightmare that brings him back to Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tranquility

**Author's Note:**

> -Events take place during Inquisition  
> -Told from Cullen's perspective  
> -Cullen/Trevelyan relationship active  
> -Horrible Trash  
> -Alt Title: "The Story of How Cullen Started Sleeping in The Inquisitor's Quarters"  
> -I wrote this during a Macrosociology class  
> -Don't judge me  
> -How do I dialogue?

The haze over Kirkwall was frightening, devilish. Cullen looked up from the stone street to see the swirling red clouds leading his eyes to the rip in the sky. His gaze shifted quickly to his surroundings, trying to make sense of the situation. This was definitely Kirkwall. The stone structure told him that much. This was the Gallows, he knew it well enough, even with the thick fog in the air. 

He froze; suddenly becoming aware of the noise his ears had kept from his consciousness. Sobbing? Laughing? He couldn't tell. Moving towards the sound he stepped up on the first stair and looked up into the fog. Glowing red eyes glared down at him from the top of the staircase; the only thing visible beyond the reach of his outstretched arm. The noise shifted to laughter, the pair rose, as if the thing it belonged to had been kneeling. It descended a step, a dragging and a loud thump as it descended another. Cullen took his foot of the stone step and placed it behind him. With each step closer to him the pair of eyes came, Cullen took a step back. He felt the need to run, to flee as far as he could. The need consumed him but he could not rip his gaze from those eyes. The closer they came, the better Cullen could make out the figure. A human, or something similar at least. It was dragging something... someone? He could make out armor.. templar armor? The laughter was suddenly familiar. The name came breathlessly out of Cullen's mouth,

“...Knight Commander Meredith..?”

Her laughing stopped at the mention of her name and an insane smile took over her face. He looked in horror, in one hand she held that god awful weapon, in the other... a throat. Her advance towards him paused. The body she dragged behind her was thrown across the distance between her and Cullen, landing a few feet away from him. 

He recognized the hair first, the tufts of red that so perfectly matched her personality, then the familiar, yet dim glow of the mark on her hand. The events of the inquisition came rushing back to him. He became aware of his relation to the mage that lay at his feet. Her name escaped his lips as he knees buckled and he crawled to her; gently grasping at her arm with a trembling hand. Her body wretched from his grasp and settled back into it's original position. She pushed his name out in a weak breath and shifted in the awkward position her body had landed in. 

Cullen knelt there staring at her with tears streaming down his face, only quiet sobs escaped his body until the laughing from Meredith began again. He looked up to find her standing over the two of them; her blazing red eyes shifted from him, down to her. Meredith's arm shot out and grabbed the Inquisitor's throat where she had her before; raising her to eye level. Cullen yelled out, still sobbing, grabbing at his love's robes. His arms were heavy in the templar armor he wore. Meredith dropped her sword and raised her hand the the Inquisitors forehead. Cullen shouted and tried to raise his arms to tear his love from Meredith's grasp. Red light shot from Meredith's hand, burning the Inquisitor's forehead; she screamed, and Cullen knelt helpless before her. Her body hit the ground with a sound that shook Cullen to his core. Meredith, now completely silent walked back up the steps and into the fog, leaving the two. The commander stayed still for a moment., not daring to make a sound; hoping, praying that he would hear a noise from the limp figure laying in front of him.

“S-samantha...samantha?”

He allowed himself to make noise again, whispering her name in between sobs. His hand reached out again to her arm once more, pulling himself over her. The weight of his armor no longer hindering his movement. He cradled her delicate face in his hands, blood trickled down from the wound left behind by the Knight Commander. His forehead lowered to hers. He stared at her, tears running down his nose and landing on hers. The moment seemed to last an hour. Cullen's eyes closed his head pounded, his heart ached and his mind was a whirlwind trying to wrap itself around the events of the past few minutes. How? Why? 

The Commander peeled his eyes open to face the reality of the situation only to find her staring back at him. Cullen gasped and pulled back in shock.

“Samantha?!”

His gaping mouth stretched into a smile. He laughed. Cullen's hands moved to grip her shoulders. 

“Samantha! Oh Samantha I thought I had lost you!”

Small, giddy laughs escaped him as he rested his head in the nape of her neck.

“Samantha, Thank the Maker.. oh Samantha, my love..”

He allowed himself to relax a moment, smiling against her neck. 

“...Commander Rutherford?”

His eyes opened as he pulled himself away from her once more. She started up at him, her eyes were empty, emotionless. Cullen's eyes trailed down her arm to the mark on her hand, the mark that, even in the darkest hour of the night, he knew to hold a faint green glow. Nothing. His heart dropped. He brought his eyes back up to her face.

“Commander... is there a problem... you look distressed.”

Her tone was flat. Her speech wasn't hers.

“No.. Nonono, Samantha, Maker NO!”

He couldn't bear to look at those eyes any longer. The grip he had on her shoulders tightened as his posture hunched over her body. Violent, shaking sobs echoed through the Gallows.

“Samantha.. SAMANTHA!”

The commander's eyes flew open. The sound of the screamed name echoed off the walls of the tower. Cullen coughed, his throat raw from the vocalization. He laid there and stared at the roof for a few minutes, attempting to slow his breathing. It was a dream, but the panic still clutched at his chest. His eyes scanned the room. Breathing in deeply, Cullen let out a long, labored sigh.

“Fuck...”

His hand dragged down his face. Kicking off the sweat soaked sheets, he noticed that the blanket was already a heap on the floor. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and his head made it's way to his hands. That position was kept until the frigid October air drove him to seek more than the short pair of trousers that left the rest of his body bare. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. Knowing that he wouldn't find sleep again, he began to dress. A simple shirt, longer trousers and a pair of boots warm enough to keep his feet warm for a long walk around Skyhold. 

Cullen's feet took him across the battlements, through the next tower and down the stairs to ground level. The farther he went, the more his pace quickened. This continued until he reached the door to the main hall, after running up the steps. Cullen acknowledged the guards at the door as they opened if for him. He had muttered something about a report left in the war room, but he could tell they were suspicious of his disheveled appearance; he only hoped they didn't notice the panic in his eyes. 

The long gait of his legs brought him to the door to the Inquisitor's quarters in a matter of moments. His hand touched the handle, and he paused to rest his forehead on the wood for a short moment before ripping open the door and running up the stairs. 

“Damn these stairs..”

He took the steps two at a time as he made his way up the flights; halting abruptly at the top. He looked to her bed. Familiar red hair stuck out of the blankets and Cullen could make out the faint green glow of her hand through the bedding. 

“Oh, thank the Maker..”

He sighed and sunk down onto the couch. His head returned to his hands. Of course it was a dream, he wasn't daft... but seeing her... It put his mind at ease.

It suddenly dawned on him that the Commander of the Inquisition's forces had just snuck into their leader's room while she was sleeping. His face became flushed as he slowly got up to leave. Quietly as he could, he tiptoed back over to the stairs and began to go back down. 

“You don't have to go, Cullen.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards the stirring figure in the bed. She sat up to face him.

“S-Samantha, I-”  
“It's OK, I heard you come in..”

Cullen sheepishly came back up to the top of the stairs. 

“I.. didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry,I-”

The commander looked down at the floor, his face growing more red, and more ashamed. Trevelyan motioned him over with her hand, and he reluctantly accepted the offer. Standing by her bed side she took one of the hands locked down to his side.

“You're lucky I was already awake, though I don't think even I could have slept thorough you storming up the stairs like that.”

She smiled up at him and tugged at his arm playfully. He let himself smile and a small chuckle escaped him. 

“Well come on! I'm not letting you into my bed with those boots!”

Cullen swallowed and stuttered at her, growing increasingly more flushed.

“Samantha, I-I don't think-...”  
“Oh, Andraste's flaming knickers, I didn't mean-... you've had a nightmare, haven't you?

Cullen's eyes hit the floor, He could feel her staring at him. He raised his head as she fought to get up over the covers and on her knees. She lay her arms over his shoulder and met his eyes with her own. 

“Just... come lay down with me.. if it was that bad.. I just figure you shouldn't be alone right now...”

Cullen paused and broke away from her, turning his back to her. Seeing her only reminded him of the horrors that swirled in his mind only a few minutes before. 

He could feel her staring at him.

He slowly made his way to the couch and flopped down. Trevelyan got up and sat down next to him, putting her hand on his back. 

“Cullen... I'm sorry, I-”

She stopped as he shifted. First one boot, then the other. He noticed a hole in his sock. He'd have to get someone to fix that in the morning. For now, his focus was on her. She was safe, that was all that mattered to him in this moment. He scooped her up in his arms and she laughed as he almost dropped her. The pang of fear that quickly went through him at the minor mistake made him laugh as well. He set her down on the bed and got in on the other side. She settled against him as his arm wrapped around her. 

“So, are you going to tell me about that nightmare?”

She smiled up at him, her hair brushing his face. 

“No, but are you going to tell me what you were doing awake in the middle of the night?”

He rested his chin on her shoulder and gave her a lighthearted nudge

“Why, waiting for you of course.”

He laughed and squeezed her tighter.

“Do you do that every night?”  
“Perhaps... maybe.. you ought to check up on me every night and see?”

Cullen chuckled.

“Maybe... maybe I should just stay in here every night anyway... can't have our Inquisitor loosing sleep over me.”  
“As long as you don't try to wear your boots to bed again, I think I may just let you.”

Cullen held her and sunk down into the myriad of pillows. How could one person need so many pillows? He slipped to sleep with her in his arms. In the minutes before dawn he woke to find the pillows mostly pushed to the floor, she was laying her head on him instead. He couldn't help but smile. Cullen looked down to see the familiar faint glow of her hand. He grasped it and held it, promising himself that he would never let it go out again.


End file.
